


Smitten

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8636077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: Hugo brings his boyfriend round for a nice dinner, but the conversation is less sparkling than Harry had hoped it would be.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my_thestral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_thestral/gifts).



> Warnings/Content: Language, talk of cocks and balls, smidge of angst.
> 
> Happy Birthday My_thestral! <3

“I can't help it,” Ron huffed. “I just don't like him.”  
“Because of who his dad is?” Harry laughed.  
“That would seem far-fetched if his Dad wasn't Draco fucking Malfoy, Harry.”  
  
Harry muttered something under his breath – Ron didn't bother to ask him to clarify. He could tell when Harry thought he was being ridiculous. Maybe he _was_ being ridiculous but the fact that his only son, the precious fruit of hais loins, was bringing Scorpius Malfoy – his _boyfriend_ \- to dinner was too much. Way too much.  
  
“I just don't see what he sees in him!” Ron said finally, folding his arms over his chest.  
“You don't even know him,” Harry pointed out fairly. “You're judging him based on how much of a knob Draco was when he was Scorpius' age. Ever thought maybe he thinks his dad is a knob too? That he might be completely the opposite?”  
  
Ron didn't answer, choosing instead to pick up his glass of wine and drink it broodingly.  
  
“Ron. Come on. He's eighteen. He can see whoever he likes.” Harry turned from where he was making dinner and wiped his hands on his apron. “I mean... this isn't because... is it?”  
  
It took a moment for what Harry was asking him to sink in. “That'd make me one hell of a hypocrite. I can be a shirt-lifter but my own son can't? Godric, Harry, no! It's not because he's gay at all. I just... I can't help it. It's bred into Weasley men to hate Malfoy men, and I don't want him to get hurt.”  
“Well Scorpius might not be your typical Malfoy, and Hugo... Hugo's not exactly a typical Weasley, is he?”  
“Much too bloody bright for that,” Ron muttered darkly.  
  
He drank some more wine and tried not to think about how both of his children had inherited their mother's brains and were far more intelligent than he could ever hope to be. As well as inheriting Ron's thick, wavy red hair and blue eyes, Hugo also seemed to have inherited the same inclination for men.  
  
“I suppose it just sits a bit heavy that it took me years to figure out who I really was... who I really _loved_ , and Hugo's already there. He already knows and he looks to be settling down and...” Ron shrugged. “It's just a bit... humiliating.”  
“Are you for real?” Harry asked incredulously. “You're now comparing your life experiences to that of your son's and beating yourself up for it? Do you ever stop looking for ways to make yourself feel like nothing?”  
  
Ron opened his mouth to respond but the doorbell rang. He put down his wine and headed for the hallway, glad that the conversation had been halted.  
  
***  
  
“This is great food, Dad,” Hugo said. “That means you didn't cook it, right?”  
  
Ron menacingly held up his fork. “Keep going if you fancy this somewhere unpleasant.”  
“You haven't got the hair on your balls,” Hugo teased, grinning in his usual impish way.  
  
Preparing a retort, Ron was cut short by Harry.  
  
“Sorry, Scorpius, Ron's bollocks aren't usually the sort of thing we discuss over dinner,” he apologised wearily. “Just block it out and think of something else. Something less wrinkled and hairy.”  
  
Both Ron and Hugo let out the same hoot of laughter at the same time. Scorpius looked between them, bemused.  
  
“We could discuss something else,” Harry said pointedly. “Something normal. Please. Anything.”  
  
Hugo caught Ron's eye then and he recognised the smirk curling up the corners of his son's mouth. It was so blindingly reminiscent of Fred and George that it was like looking at the past for a moment.  
  
“Well, I suppose there's the whole cock to discuss too – head, shaft...” Hugo said airily.  
“That moment of sheer terror when you start pulling a pube out from under your foreskin and it just doesn't stop coming out because it's the longest pube anyone has ever grown, ever,” Ron added fondly.  
“Ooh, yeah, let's discuss that!” Hugo agreed. “I once found one which-”  
  
Harry threw them each a withering glare in turn and Hugo didn't bother to finish off his sentence. They each resumed eating again in silence and Ron paused for a mouthful of water. Scorpius was smiling to himself as he ate. Hugo was glancing over at him every so often, his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed with nerves.  
  
He was very clearly smitten and Ron knew that because it was exactly the same way he had stared at Harry for so very long.  
  
Scorpius seemed nothing like Draco, for which Ron could only be grateful. He seemed kinder and more peaceful than his father; Draco seemed to have mostly been powered by spite when they were younger. Scorpius was far gentler.  
  
“Are you eating that?” Hugo asked pointedly, when he realised that Ron had stopped eating.  
  
Ron wondered why he'd ever thought that Hugo was not a normal Weasley.  
  
***  
  
“This is so bloody weird,” Ron said through gritted teeth.  
“It's late,” Harry said. “They've both had a lot to drink. It just made sense that they stay.”  
“But together. One room. One bed.”  
“And you sleep on the floor, do you?” Harry levelled.  
  
Ron neglected to answer in favour of chucking his t-shirt over his head. It was late and Hugo and Scorpius were somewhere under his roof, sharing a bed.  
  
His son, his precious, beautiful son, was sleeping with someone.  
  
“He's just a kid,” he muttered finally.  
  
Ron threw back the duvet and got into bed. The bed he had been sharing for the past four years with Harry.  
  
“He's happy,” Harry said. “He looks loved up. He looks like you when you're loved up, too.”  
“Does he?”  
“Oh yeah.” Harry grinned as he too climbed into bed. “Same gormless look on your faces.”  
  
They both settled themselves under the duvet and Harry extinguished the candles. The room was dark and chilly, and Ron found himself craving a cuddle. Harry seemed to read his mind as he suddenly crowded close.  
  
Ron waited for him to settle before kissing his hair. Some more peaceful silence passed and Ron dared to close his eyes.  
  
“Oh!” The loud cry came from somewhere across the landing – loud and unmistakably passionate.  
  
“They're having sex,” Ron groaned. “They're having fucking sex.”  
“Jealous?” Harry needled.  
“Well yeah, frankly,” Ron grumped. “What with your back and my leg it's been a while.”  
  
Harry chuckled to himself and nuzzled harder into Ron.  
  
“You don't have to compare yourself to him,” Harry whispered.  
“Eh?”  
“It's because of you and the strength you found to change your life that Hugo knows he can do this.” Harry went on, “Because you being you has given him the courage to be open about it. That's a massive credit to you, and to Hermione to give her her dues. He's confident and he knows what he wants. Just because you feel it took you too long to get to that stage doesn't mean you're a failure, Ron.”  
  
Hating just how easily Harry could read his mind, Ron chose not to respond. He had no idea what to say anyway, except -  
  
“I love you, Harry.”  
“I love you too. But not the way you talk about bloody pubic hair over dinner.”  
“Bloody pubic hair is a whole other topic, Harry.”  
“You're disgusting.”  
  
Ron snorted.  
  
 _-fin-_


End file.
